


my time of day

by bellafarallones



Category: The Adventure Zone (Podcast)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Gambling, Implied/Referenced Sex Work, M/M, Minor Minerva/Duck Newton, No Period-Typical Homophobia, Porn With Plot, Teratophilia, duck is horny on main for indrid the whole time, they're fake married at the beginning for comedic purposes, vaguely a guys and dolls au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-28
Updated: 2020-11-28
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:07:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,860
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27764968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellafarallones/pseuds/bellafarallones
Summary: Duck and Minerva, campaigners against illegal gambling, were drinking eggnog at the postage-stamp-sized kitchen table of a minor illegal-gambling kingpin. “So just to be clear: you can see the future, I guess, and you’re down to help us stop people from gambling?" said Minerva. "But not stop gambling yourself?”“Life is a gamble." Indrid smiled. "But essentially, yes.”
Relationships: Indrid Cold/Duck Newton
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	my time of day

**Author's Note:**

> in my opinion there are three good songs in guys and dolls: "my time of day," "luck be a lady," and "sit down, you're rockin' the boat." unfortunately the entire plot of that musical is unethical as hell and so i have torn it down and rebuilt this glorious edifice in its place

“You’re going to do  _ swimmingly, _ ” said Minerva as she adjusted Duck’s tie. They were standing on the sidewalk outside an establishment that was somewhere between a bodega and a grocery store.

“Thanks,” said Duck. Then he squared his shoulders and went inside. The teenager behind the counter barely looked up. “Uh,” said Duck. “I’m here for the, uh, craps game?”

“Hey, Mister Cold!” they yelled towards the back of the store. “You got one!”

The employees-only door at the back of the store banged open. The man who came through - well, he reminded Duck of a violin, somehow, fragile and built to last all at once, upright and confident. He wore a dark gray suit over a white shirt with the top button undone, and he had neat white hair, a little longer than was fashionable, and round red glasses. His face was unlined, too young for his hair, but how old he was Duck couldn’t say.

The combined effect of the glasses and his smile was so disarming that Duck hardly knew what was happening until Mr. Cold was upon him, seizing one of Duck’s hands in both of his and shaking it firmly. “ _ So  _ good to have you here,” he said. “And you would be… Duck Newton?” he said at the same time Duck did. “I’m sorry, I’m getting ahead of myself. You will be joining us for cards?”

“Yes.” Duck looked down at his hand, enveloped by Mr. Cold’s cool, narrow fingers. “Nice to meet you, Mr. Cold.”

He released Duck’s hand as though he’d just realized he’d spent too long holding it. “Oh, please, it’s Indrid. Hollis only calls me Mr. Cold to tease.” And with that he led Duck by the hand into the backroom of the store. 

There were two tables: a square one, where another teenager in a store uniform was eating a bologna sandwich, and a round one, where a few other men in suits sat around with cards in front of them. Two chairs were unoccupied.

“Sit,” said Indrid, claiming the chair facing the door. “I’ll deal you in.” There was an opaque bottle at his elbow, though he didn’t seem at all intoxicated. 

Duck sat down in the remaining chair. The cards felt good in his hands, well-worn and rounded at the edges. At least there was one part of this he could be comfortable with. Very carefully, Duck removed the wad of cash from his pocket and set it on the table. It was his and Minerva’s entire weekly incidentals budget for combating illegal gambling in the city of New York. 

In forty-five minutes he’d managed to lose it all. He also discovered in that time a little of his fellow gamblers, who seemed like nice people and not likely to shoot anyone, which was sort of a relief. Most of the money ended up with Indrid: the house always wins, after all. The house, for his part, did not stop smiling the entire game.

There was a bang, and Duck whipped his head around. Minerva stood in the doorway, gorgeous and terrifying as always. “Mister  _ Newton,”  _ she said, and stalked over to Duck. “Have you been  _ gambling?” _

“Yes,” said Duck honestly. 

“I’m leaving you. We’ve been married five years, and I’ve had enough of you losing the money we were going to use to pay for food and rent and stuff in illegal card games.”

“Sorry, honey,” said Duck. “Won’t you take me back?”

“No!” said Minerva. She looked triumphantly around at the other people in the room. “And let that be a lesson to the rest of you! If you don’t want your wives to leave you, stop gambling!”

Duck tore his gaze away from her. For the first time, now, Indrid was not smiling. His mouth had formed a hard line. Then he cleared his throat. “If I may, Mrs. Newton.”

“Yes?” said Minerva with sincere politeness.

“Your husband has not quite lost all your money. You see, he has been kind enough to allow me to owe him. But I sense now may be the time to pay up.” And he peeled bills off the stack on the table and passed them to Duck. “That should be enough, I think?”

“Uh,” said Duck. It was more money than he’d gone in with. The mouths of everyone else at the table, and even the employee eating his lunch on the other side of the room, had fallen open. “Yep. That should cover it.”

Minerva tugged on Duck’s arm. “It’s been a pleasure, gentlemen, really, but I think we should be going.”

“A pleasure,” echoed Duck, and followed her out. The last thing he saw before the door to the back room slammed behind them was Indrid giving him a little wave. 

“Well, that didn’t quite go as we expected,” said Minerva once they’d made it back to mission headquarters. “Although in retrospect, the financial loss aspect of gambling is so omnipresent that we weren’t going to show anyone anything they didn’t already know.”

“At least it wasn’t technically a  _ loss,”  _ said Duck, sorting the bills Indrid had given him into stacks by denomination. Yes, this was a lot of money.

“Oh, yes. I never did expect to turn a profit in this business.” Minerva unwound the filmy scarf from her neck. Then she leveled Duck with a look. “Have you exchanged sexual favors with that man?”

“No!” said Duck. “I’ve never met him before in my life.”

“Then why did he do that?”

“To thwart our plan to show that gambling hurts you?”

“But how would he have known?”

“You know I’m not a very good actor.” Suddenly Duck pulled something out of the stack of cash: a business card. There was no name, but there was a phone number printed, and an address handwritten beneath. “We might be able to ask him. I’m starting to think we should play to our strengths and try being honest.” 

\--

The address on the card led to a third-floor walkup apartment in a building that did not reflect how rich Indrid Cold presumably was. Minerva knocked smartly, while Duck was still a little winded from the stairs. The door opened instantly. “Mr. and Mrs. Newton!” said Indrid. “What a pleasant surprise!” 

Today he wasn’t wearing a suit, but a white tank top, and Duck found he couldn’t quite look away from Indrid’s bare skin as he led them into his home. “Can I get you anything to drink?”

“We don’t drink,” said Minerva.

For a moment Indrid looked confused. “What? Everyone - oh, you mean alcohol. No, I don’t drink alcohol either. I have, uh, water, orange juice, and eggnog.”

“Eggnog?” said Minerva. 

“I’ll have an eggnog,” said Duck. 

“A man after my own heart,” said Indrid, and if he hadn’t been wearing the red sunglasses Duck thought he might have winked before he turned to the refrigerator. 

“I’ll have orange juice,” said Minerva. “Thank you.”

Indrid delivered everyone their preferred beverages, including an eggnog for himself, and they sat down together at the kitchen table, which was so small their knees brushed underneath it. “Excuse my poor hospitality,” said Indrid conversationally. “I don’t usually… do this kind of thing.”

Duck could hold in the lie no longer. “We’re not really married.”

“I know,” said Indrid.

“What?” said Minerva.

Indrid held up his left hand and wiggled the ring finger. Ah. Of course.

“But how did you figure out the rest of it?” Minerva pressed on. “How did you know not to let Duck lose?”

Indrid was very still for a moment, and then his face flushed pink. “Oh, I - I’m sorry. I seem to have misunderstood the situation.”

“What do  _ you  _ think is happening here?” said Duck.

“Nothing. Forget it.” Indrid took a deep drink of eggnog, face still flushed. 

“You thwarted our little skit pretty well,” said Minerva. “So we’ll level with you. We’re trying to end illegal gambling in the city of New York.”

Indrid did not react to this, not with the fear or shame Duck would expect of someone caught in illegal activity. 

“What would it take for you to stop running your games?” said Minerva.

“Well, I’d need another way to pay rent,” said Indrid.

“Oh, come on!” said Duck. “Don’t tell me you couldn’t get another job. You’re charming, clearly clever, good with your hands, handsome… uh…” Duck trailed off.

Indrid sighed, which only made Duck feel worse, and curled his hands around his cup of eggnog. “I would be… willing to lend my skills to your cause.”

“And your skills are?”

Indrid looked up from his cup of eggnog, and even through the glasses Duck could feel the confidence in his gaze. “I never lose a bet.”

“What?” said Duck. 

“If one of you has a coin to flip I’ll prove it.”

Duck dug in his pockets for a quarter. “Ready?”

“Heads,” said Indrid.

Duck flipped the coin, and he and Minerva leaned over the table to see how it had landed. George Washington’s face stared back at them. 

“Do it again,” said Minerva.

“Heads again. Tails. Heads. Heads. Heads.” Indrid calmly guessed right every time. “Look, I could do this all day. Do you believe me now?”

“Are you an alien?” said Minerva.

“Of course not.”

“I am. I came out of Duck’s head and we both have superstrength.”

“Huh,” said Indrid thoughtfully, but it was not a question.

“So just to be clear: you can see the future, I guess, and you’re down to help us stop people from gambling? But not stop gambling yourself?”

“Life is a gamble. But essentially, yes.”

\--

That’s how they ended up at the racetrack, pushing through a sea of people looking for their seats or hawking bets or peanuts. Duck looked around in surprise when he felt Indrid’s hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry,” said Indrid, still clinging to him. “I’m not a fan of crowds.”

Duck looped his arm through Indrid’s. “It’s hard to get lost with Minerva around.” It was true: her distinctive head rose above most of the crowd. “But we’ll stick together.”

Minerva seemed totally at ease in the press of bodies. She stopped a man with a sharp fedora and betting tickets sticking out of his pockets. 

“Yes?” He looked rather terrified of her.

“Hello,” she said conversationally. “Would you care to make a bet? If you win we’ll give you a thousand dollars. And if we win, you’ll never place another wager ever again, on pain of your mother’s immortal soul?”

The man looked nervously between her, Duck, and Indrid. “Depends on what the bet is.”

“That the horse called Paul Revere will come in ninth place,” said Indrid calmly.

“What are you, some kind of religious nuts?”

“There is no falser god than the pursuit of financial gain,” said Minerva sternly.

“Does that mean you’re taking the bet?” said Duck.

The man shrugged. “I could use a grand.”

Over a dozen other people agreed to make the same wager, with different horses in different places. Then Duck, Minerva, and Indrid found a spot in the stands to actually watch the race. 

Indrid fidgeted with his stack of tickets: he’d placed bets of his own with every bookie he could find. “I considered being an oddsmaker,” he said contemplatively. “I’d be better at it than I am at craps. But of course with craps you get more of a chance to talk to people.”

“You picked your flavor of illegal gambling based on the opportunity to  _ talk  _ to people?” said Minerva incredulously.

“I don’t know if you can guess from my, well, everything, but I have not always had the easiest time making friends,” said Indrid rather icily, and abruptly stood up. “I’m going to go find something to eat.” Then he was gone. 

“Well, that was weird,” said Minerva. “Do you suppose he’s sensitive about it?” 

Duck shrugged. During the craps game the other players had seemed almost afraid of Indrid, with his suit and his smile and his opaque glasses. Duck had assumed the effect was intentional. But thinking of how polite Indrid had been to him, how enthusiastically he’d shaken his hand, maybe it hadn’t been.

\--

Minerva said good-bye and headed home soon after the race ended, leaving Duck and Indrid standing together downtown. “Well,” said Duck. He should go home. He didn’t want the day to end.

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” Indrid inquired. “My treat.” 

“I’d like that.”

Indrid steered them to a restaurant with white linen tablecloths and candles on the tables. “I’ve never actually been to any of these downtown restaurants,” he said in a low voice, leaning over the table, “but this one should be good.”

“You can see more than just coin flips and horse races?”

Indrid raised his eyebrows. “I can see everything.” A beat’s pause as the gravity of that statement sunk in. “That’s not true. I can’t see everything. I see… possibilities.”

_ Have you exchanged sexual favors with that man?  _ Minerva’s voice echoed in Duck’s mind. A very Minerva way of putting it. She wanted to know if he’d sucked Indrid’s dick, if he’d bent over and spread his legs for him. Probably everyone else at the craps game had assumed so. They’d all looked so surprised. Were any of them jealous? 

Indrid must not have been able to guess what Duck was thinking about. “You and Minerva,” he said carefully, and it took Duck a moment to catch his meaning.

“Oh, we’re just friends. Pretending to be married was her idea.”

Indrid nodded. “Do you mind if I have dessert first?”

Dessert first turned out to mean dessert only, Indrid putting away half the dessert menu while Duck savored his French-onion soup. “You were right, this is delicious.”

Indrid, mouth full, only nodded.

When Duck had scraped the last of the cheese from his bowl, he put his spoon down and looked across the table. “Why  _ did  _ you give me that money the other day?” 

“You were there and attractive and I’m allowed to have a little fun once in a while.” 

Duck blinked. “Attractive?” 

“I may keep my eyes covered, but I do have them.” 

The thing was, Duck  _ wasn’t  _ all that attractive, objectively speaking. He wasn’t particularly tall, and he lacked a chiseled jawline or six-pack abs. But Indrid was talking as though wanting him was the most obvious thing in the world. Well. If Indrid wanted him. “I wish we weren’t in public right now,” said Duck quietly.

Indrid burst out laughing. “Have I told you you’re a delight?”

Duck tried his best to look alluring. “Buying me dinner, bein’ all nice… a guy might think you’re angling for something.”

“I expect nothing from you, Duck. But if I were, as you say, angling for something…”

Indrid paused. The rational part of Duck’s brain told him that nobody in the restaurant was looking at them as anything out of the ordinary, just two men fresh from the races, but if they’d seen Indrid collecting his winnings,  _ thousands  _ of dollars of from every bookie on the track, so much money in just a few hours it made Duck lightheaded to see it, they might wonder about the services being exchanged.

“...there’s something you should know.”

“What?” Fantasies of Indrid’s fingers digging into his skin dissipated. 

“Remember when I said I wasn’t an alien?”

“Yes.”

“That was a lie.”

“Oh.” For a moment Duck mourned the loss of the last dregs of normalcy in his life.

“This is not my true form. My real body is significantly more… monstrous.”

He can’t ask if it’s the sexy kind of monstrous. He can’t ask. 

“When we are not in public you can decide for yourself, if you like,” said Indrid. There must have been a future where Duck’s self-restraint was not quite so strong. “I just -” Indrid fidgeted, twisting his hands together. “You should know that. So you can make… an informed decision.”

“Can’t you already see what I’m going to say?”

Indrid smiled, and it was so much softer than his smile had been during the craps game. Or maybe Duck knew him better now. “The choices people make are significantly more complicated than coin-flips, or even horses.”

“So you can see the future. And you’re an alien, and you don’t really look like the handsome fella I see before me?”

“Well, I do look like this. This is a real body, and right now I inhabit it. But that is not always the case, and this is not the body I was born with.”

“And that’s it? There’s nothing else important you’re not telling me to protect me, or anything?”

Indrid thought for a moment. “I regularly eat plain sugar with a spoon?”

“Explains why you’re so sweet.”

“Now that one I saw coming.” Indrid smiled. “Really, though, my life is rather boring.”

“I appreciate you bein’ honest with me.” Duck leaned back in his chair. “Yeah, I’m just an ordinary guy. Apart from the whole deal with Minerva, and her comin’ out of my head, but that’s more of a  _ her _ being special thing than a  _ me _ being special thing, you feel?”

Indrid nodded. “I would dispute that you are in any way  _ ordinary,  _ but your point is taken.”

Duck was glad Indrid didn’t try to argue. “I sorta want to see your other body. But that’s more personal curiosity rather than me thinking it’ll change how interested in you I am.”

The waiter came with the check, put it down in front of Indrid. He paid it in cash, tipping very, very well. Then he looked back up to Duck. “Would it be too forward of me to ask if you’d like to come home with me?”

Night had fallen while they were eating, and now the gutters and puddles were orange from the glow of the streetlights. In the city the sky never turned quite black, instead staying a starless haze, as though the earth were alone in the universe. But alone it was not, and the proof was here beside him. 

Indrid put his hands in his pockets as they walked. He looked relaxed,  _ happy _ , shoulders loose. “I love the city at night,” he said. 

“Yeah?”

“It’s less overwhelming when it’s quiet.”

Duck didn’t normally go out at night unless he had to. But he supposed Indrid wouldn’t fear an ordinary mugger. That got him wondering what Indrid’s monstrous body might look like, a hundred cheesy horror flicks coming to mind: the wolfman, the creature from the swamp, beasts with writhing tentacles and a hundred eyes. 

Duck reached out and caught Indrid’s hand in his, laced their fingers together, and didn’t let go until they reached the door of Indrid’s building. 

Once they’d climbed the stairs and made it inside his apartment, Indrid closed the blinds on the living room window and checked that the door was locked. “You want to see what I really look like?”

“Yes.”

Indrid took his glasses off. The transformation was instantaneous. 

“Wow,” Duck breathed. “That’s - you’re…  _ wow. _ ” The word that came to mind was  _ lepidopteran,  _ pale green compound wings with long swallowtails and maroon eyespots, feathery yellow antennae, body downright fluffy, but with humanoid arms and legs. The most unsettling part was the eyes, too large for his face, round and red.

“Humans normally react with a little more terror,” said Indrid, voice tinged with amusement. It was strange to hear the same voice coming from a nine-foot beast as a man. 

Duck’s pulse was racing, but he wouldn’t call it terror. 

“Are you alright with me, like this?” said Indrid hesitantly.

“Yes. Can I - d’you want - ?” Duck took a hesitant step forward, arms half-outstretched. 

“If you -  _ yes,  _ I do want -” and then there was no more of the awkwardness of speech, because they were kissing. Indrid stumbled backward and ended up on the couch, pulled Duck onto his lap, and that was much more convenient, for Duck to straddle his hips and learn his strange mouth. 

“I guess it’s ‘learning new things about ourselves’ night,” said Duck, as he cupped Indrid’s face in his hands and looked into those inscrutable eyes. “Because I think I might like you even better like this.”

Indrid kissed him again. “Quick, uh, moth anatomy lesson?”

“That might be useful.”

“I - my antennae mean I can smell much more acutely than I can when I’m human, and you, you- I can smell that you’re turned on right now and it might be the best thing I’ve ever experienced.”

“Oh, fuck, that’s hot. Quick Duck anatomy lesson? I’m trans.”

Indrid nodded. “And my genitals are… internal until needed, though if we keep going like this…”

“Do you want that?” said Duck.

“Yes,” said Indrid. And then Duck was kissing him again, purposefully, and Indrid’s wings thumped against the couch cushions. “There are futures where you say some very filthy things, and I bet they’d sound even better in reality…”

“I want - I want you to hold me down and fuck me,” Duck murmured against Indrid’s lips. “I bet you’ve got a giant monster dick under there and I want it, I want you inside me and on top of me, I want to find out how it feels.”

Indrid flipped their positions effortlessly, pressed Duck down across the couch underneath him. “You like the idea of being ravished by a monster?”

Duck squirmed, grinding on Indrid’s knee between his thighs. “Only if the monster is as sweet as you are.”

“Mmm.” Indrid pressed his strange soft face to Duck’s neck. “Bed? Please?”

“Lead the way.”

Indrid helped him up off the couch and led him by the hand through the dark apartment, and Duck thought of how Indrid had tugged him into the back room of the store the first day they’d met. He’d let Indrid lead him anywhere. 

The moment they were in Indrid’s bedroom they were kissing again. Indrid touched the buttons on Duck’s shirt. “Can I?” he said, and Duck nodded against him, and he unbuttoned Duck’s shirt from the top, got halfway down before he stopped to tease Duck’s nipples into hard peaks, eventually made it the rest of the way and pushed the shirt off his shoulders. 

Duck got his pants off by himself, though with Indrid’s mouth on his undoing his belt buckle took far longer than it should have. When his back hit the bed he was wearing nothing but his socks, and he pulled those off and threw them to the ground as well.

Logically, Duck should have felt exposed, vulnerable, with Indrid’s glowing eyes on him. Instead he felt safe. He stretched his arms out and then Indrid was on top of him, kissing him some more, stroking his hands down Duck’s sides and the outside of his thighs, every inch of skin begging to be touched. 

“Please get on with it,” gasped Duck,  _ “please.” _

“Can I use my mouth?”

“ _ Fuck  _ you’re a good date.”

Indrid’s strange mouth spread in a grin. “I aim to please.” Then he moved down on the bed to lie between Duck’s legs, wrapped his arms around Duck’s thighs and rubbed gently at his clit. 

Duck’s fists closed around nothing. Indrid didn’t really have hair that he could grab. “Can I touch your…?”

“Antennae,” said Indrid at the same time Duck ventured that as a guess, “and yes, but they’re quite sensitive.”

Duck brushed his thumb against the feathery tip of one of Indrid’s antennae, and smiled at the little  _ eep  _ noise it got him. 

“As I said,” said Indrid, sounding almost embarrassed. “Sensitive.” And then he bent his head and licked Duck open. His tongue was longer than a human’s would be, narrower, fucked into him easily, and Duck shuddered as he tried to clench around it. Then Indrid was mouthing over his clit and slid one finger into him, easy, then two, curled them up and made Duck’s back arch. 

“Fuck, Indrid, you’re so good, you’re gonna make me cum -”

Indrid pulled back just enough to speak over the wet noises of his fingers fucking in and out. “You asked for my cock, and I intend to prepare you for it.”

“Oh  _ fuck.”  _ Of course Indrid’s cock was so big he’d need to be fucked-out loose to take it. Three of Indrid’s fingers were inside him, now, and the edges of Indrid’s mandibles scraped gently against his inner thighs, and Indrid’s mouth over his entrance and his clit and Duck was coming, legs shuddering in Indrid’s grip. “Fuck. Fuck you’re so good,” Duck said, touching just the pads of his fingers to Indrid’s antennae as gently as he could. 

Indrid crawled back up the bed and kissed him. Duck tasted himself on Indrid’s lips and realized he could feel something hard and slick dragging against his thigh, hard and slick and  _ big _ . Indrid had gotten that hard off eating him out, and that was - Duck wouldn't have thought it was possible to want Indrid any more than he already did, but apparently it was. 

They kissed messily for a moment, as the last aftershocks of Duck’s orgasm faded. “Need you,” he said as he reached down for Indrid’s cock. Indrid moved down a little, hands occupied in holding himself up, so Duck could guide it inside him. 

Fuck. Fuck, that was a lot. Duck was grateful for the lubrication Indrid’s alien biology provided, he felt like he was  _ gaping  _ and it still filled him so well. Indrid’s hips stuttered forward in little jerks; he was clearly holding himself back from fucking into Duck too fast. 

“You can go harder than that.” Duck reached out to touch Indrid’s antennae again, but Indrid caught his wrists and pinned them to the pillow above his head.

“I seem to remember someone asking to be held down.” Indrid pushed in slowly, eyes fixed on Duck’s face for any sign of discomfort as he whimpered from the pressure inside him. “You’re so handsome like this, taking me so well, it’s like this is what you were made for -”

“- it is, made for you, just for you -”

Indrid was fucking him properly now, fast and hard and so, so good. Pinned by Indrid’s hands and cock like an insect on a board, Duck couldn’t move an inch, and the thought that came unbidden to his mind at the inhuman noises of pleasure Indrid was making was  _ breed me.  _

There must have been a future where he said it out loud, or something else Indrid liked, because he spilled then, suddenly, filling Duck until his spend dripped out down his thighs and onto the sheets. Indrid pressed his lips to Duck’s again before he even pulled out. “God, I haven’t - haven’t done this with a human in this body before, you’re so  _ warm,  _ I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of this.”

“Guess you’ll just have to keep me around then,” Duck gasped out. With his arms free he hugged Indrid close. 

Indrid laughed, sounding a little surprised. “I suppose I shall.”

Duck was sure he’d be sore in the morning, but for now he was still turned on as hell, unable to stop his hips from rocking.

“Have I not satisfied you yet?” teased Indrid as his hand went between Duck’s thighs. 

“Gonna do something about that?” Duck was so oversensitive now that he almost flinched when Indrid’s fingers brushed his swollen clit, couldn’t hold back his needy whimper as he clamped his thighs together, trapping Indrid’s hand between them.

“Too much?” said Indrid as Duck held tight to the thick fluff on his chest. 

“No, you’re perfect, this is -” was all he managed to get out before his voice dissolved into whimpers, just on the razor-edge of pain and loving it. Indrid was gentle, two fingers curled inside him and the heel of his hand against his clit, allowing Duck to set the pace by rocking against his hand as he clung to him.

Duck squeezed his eyes shut. He could feel Indrid kissing unhurriedly down his neck, and apparently he was more of an exhibitionist than he’d thought, because it was thinking about going back to that craps game and watching Indrid deal cards with his clever fingers, knowing those fingers had been inside him, wondering what the other players thought and guessed about the man who’s allowed Indrid to owe him, that sent Duck over the edge.

A wave of exhaustion followed, and Duck was boneless, deliciously fucked-out. Indrid licked his own fingers clean and collapsed on the mattress next to Duck. “Is being ravished by a monster all you’d hoped for?” said Indrid softly.

“Mm.” Duck curled up against Indrid’s side, and Indrid put his arms around him.

“Can I do anything for you?”

“Keep holding me?” Duck’s eyes were already closed.

Indrid did not let go. “You’re welcome to stay the night here, if you’d like,” he said, hesitantly, as if there was a chance Duck was about to get up and leave.

“Mhm.”

Indrid watched him for a moment, soft with affection, and then pulled the covers up over both of them. He could wash the sheets in the morning. 

**Author's Note:**

> hit me up on tumblr @bellafarallones


End file.
